Home Is a Broken Verb
- GELESEN 56
- Stimmen 9
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Tagspoem
Home Is a Broken Verb is not a place-it's a tense.
Past perfect, present aching, future conditional.
These poems walk barefoot through cracked floorboards and whispered rooms,
where love once hung like laundry and silence grew roots in the walls.
One side of the house still glows-soft light, warm breath,
the other side is smoke and syntax,
verbs like stay, leave, belong curling out the windows.
This is a collection for those who've patched themselves with metaphor,
who know that healing isn't linear,
and that sometimes, the most honest sentence
is the one that breaks halfway through.
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I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.
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